Broken walls
by ipodder
Summary: ‘Aunt Brooke’s arms has scratches all over it. And when I held her hand at Q’s funeral, she was trembling momma.’ One-shot. Post 603.


Disclaimer: I own nothing

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. This is what I want to see next Monday, hopefully! Please R&R. **

It was a calm night. There was just the right amount of wind, the sky was clear, and Haley James Scott was cooking the best chicken pie ever. Lucas and Peyton were there, Skills was there, the Scott family was there, but one person was missing.

'Momma, where's aunt Brooke?'

Worried glances were exchanged across the table. Lucas, being Lucas suddenly frowned and squinted heavily.

'Has she got any check ups for her fall yet?"

Jamie laughed, causing Haley and Nathan to frown slightly.

'What's so funny Jamie?'

Jamie laughed again and stuffed a big piece of pie into his mouth.

'Uncle Luke is too broody to notice.'

Peyton choked on her wine and supressed a worried smile.

Lucas turned to his blonde nephew, 'Notice what Jamie?'

Jamie shrugged and chewed on some more pie.

'The stairs must be scary at Aunt Brooke's house.'

Something was up, and the adults couldn't help but wait for the five year old to finish drinking his milk, and speak up already.

'What do you mean baby?'

It felt like a puzzle, each adult was hanging onto Jamie's words, and if the situation wasn't so pathetic, someone would've pointed out the irony and laughed.

'Aunt Brooke's arms has scratches all over it. And when I held her hand at Q's funeral, she was trembling momma.'

Nathan and Haley would have given Jamie a big kiss for being so damn perceptive, and maybe he would've gotten another scoop of his favourite ice cream, but the situation was so pathetic now, and scary, and real.

'What are you saying Jamie?'

Although they already knew. Somehow they've always known.

Jamie sipped on his milk, almost like he's the wise old man, and all these slightly mentally challenged people were waiting for answers, and he's just making them wait.

'Maybe the stairs at Aunt Brooke's is haunted momma. Maybe they have legs and arms, maybe that's where the cuts came from.'

It clicked. As soon as Jamie finished that sentence, everyone was quiet. Each were putting the pieces together.

_I need to feel safe in my own house Peyton._

_I need my key back._

_It all hurts._

_I don't believe in karma._

'When does Brooke ever do laundry?'

'Brooke was the cheer Nazi. There was no way she would've gotten tangled in them.'

_I don't want you guys to see me like this, vulnerable._

_I told you not to come._

_I told you, I'm fine._

Brooke Davis is the Queen of opposites. When she says she's fine, she's breaking. When she says not to come, you should be there ten minutes early. And when she lists of all the random stats of abuse and rape, it was a cry for help.

'Where is Brooke tonight?'

'New York. She should be back today though.'

Suddenly, as if by some cruel, twisted, ironic fate, Brooke Davis walks into the room. Her hair was immaculate, there was a faint trace of perfume, and her clothes weren't crumpled. She didn't look like how most people would after a flight. But Brooke Davis wasn't 'most people.'

If the bruised marks on her face dissapeared, she would be back to the sassy B. Davis. But that's the thing, the bruises and scars were engraved in her skin, mirroring the nervous feeling in her friends' stomachs. She took off her leather jacket and dropped her suitcase as Jamie sprinted towards her.

She crouched down and took him into her arms. Her face rested against his delicate shoulders, and a tear drop formed in her dull eyes.

'I'm so sorry buddy.' She whispered, not letting go.

'I love you aunt Brooke.'

If the situation wasn't so scary and real, everyone's heart would have swelled up at the exchange.

Brooke whimpered and looked her godson in the eye.

'I know buddy. And that's why I'm sorry.'

He nodded as if he understood. The irony was, he probably did.

'And I love you too. So much.' She flashed him a dimpled smile, and he reached up to touch her right dimple.

'I miss your pretty smile aunt Brooke.'

Brooke pulled away and stood up, looking at all her friends, her family, her lifeline.

'I didn't fall down the stairs.'

She let out a huge breath.

' I don't know why I didn't tell you, I told Deb, but I made her promise to keep it a secret.'

Nathan made a mental note to kick his mom's ass.

'I was attacked. The night before you guys came back from Vegas, the store was broken into and a guy came in to steal my computer, my money and my sketches. But before he got to all that he beat me, and that's the truth. That's where this came from.' She pointed to her eyes. 'And this is where he kicked and scratched my arm until I almost couldn't breath.'

It made Lucas and Nathan sick that someone would dare to beat up a woman in such a way.

Jamie stood firmly beside her, and she loved him for it.

'You weren't…you weren't ra-'

Brooke shook her head.

'No. I thought I would be, but I wasn't.' She let out a nervous chuckle. All of her confessions came pouring out, and she had no control over it, she didn't know why, but she was glad it did.

Jamie tugged her hand and she glanced down to see his glassy eyes.

'I'm sorry aunt Brooke.'

And that did it. Brooke's tear fell one by one, creating a puddle on her shirt. Her calm exterior is gone and suddenly the walls came tearing down.

Peyton was the first one to grab her before she fell, Haley and Nathan followed, and Lucas kissed her forehead. Jamie stood still, afraid of breaking her, until Brooke bent down to pick him up.

'Let us in Brooke.' Peyton whimpered.

And if Brooke wasn't blinded by her own tears, she would see tears on their faces too.

'Okay.' Brooke whispered against her best friend's chest. 'Okay.'


End file.
